


tell me how to be a lily, if you know

by haseo



Series: ABOverse [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Blow Jobs, Commitment, Cum Swallowing, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love, Knotting, M/M, Making Love, Plans For The Future, Rough Sex, Stomach Bulge, doubts, hopes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 20:27:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18454040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haseo/pseuds/haseo
Summary: Connor and Markus have always been overachievers. This truth spills into the bedroom and their relationship.





	tell me how to be a lily, if you know

**Author's Note:**

> so i'm stuck throwing out the trash before i can do anything else - sorry.
> 
> i hope i put up enough warnings, let me know if i missed anything. lq content warning, too, while i work to get this verse out of my head.
> 
> & as i am wont to do, things are now going out of chronological order. XD i could have posted other things first, but i chose not to because i like giving people a hard time. :'D

Ten a.m..

Connor might be more productive on a rare day off that wasn’t an unexpected result of his biological needs, but a thought’s been gnawing at him whenever Markus rolls his eyes at talk of other omegas. He’s got a mission on this day of his partner’s expected biological need.

Markus has never pressured him to be anything other than he is; but Connor’s been wanting to accommodate simpler concessions if it makes Markus happy.

The mall is crowded with enough people Connor doesn’t feel too anxious he’d arrived at its opening, and he surveys the open space for the name of the most recommended online boutique for this particular endeavor. He recalls the shop sign and keeps an eye out for its since there was no map from where he entered the shopping center.

It’s a decent fifty-five degrees fahrenheit cool that morning.

Connor is sweating.

So much so he’d prefer to rush back home to shower then change into new clothes.

“This is a nightmare,” he mutters to himself, before steeling his attention and looking for any familiar landmarks as shown in the online photographs of the shop.

Locating the sign’s gaudy pinks and purples makes his stomach drop. He sighs deeply before reminding himself this is something Markus might appreciate, or might have wanted and never felt he could request.

▼

When Markus gets home, he’s still distracted in the way he gets before his rut. He knows it’s time, but never likes to acknowledge it until it’s too obvious to ignore.

He enters a familiar phase where he doesn’t say much to Connor, though always looming nearby, crowding or watching him. Glued to Connor like a very persistent haunting, scenting or licking at his neck.

Markus demands they shower together when possible in the days before his rut, will latch onto Connor when he can, and gets abnormally handsy.

Though more reticent than usual, Markus sporadically dropped his intense focus to nuzzle his marks on the back of Connor’s neck or to give Connor a soft, fanciful smile. Markus always had a hard time when he was generally being truer to his biological nature than he’d like. Maybe Connor’s plan would help with that.

Markus probably picks up on Connor’s tells before his heat. Far more easily, since Connor doesn’t have Markus’ spectacular sense of smell.

Markus blinks at him, fork in hand, “What is it?”

Connor offers a familiar answer, “My line.”

Markus frowns, a shake of his head starting then stopped just as quickly. “You were staring at me.”

Connor’s brows go up. “You’ve _been_ staring at me. Over thirty minutes.” Connor gestures with his own fork to Markus’ untouched meal.

Markus quickly looks down, as if noticing they were supposed to be having dinner, and then his lips purse to the side as if reprimanded. Embarrassed, he shrinks on himself.

Connor laughs. “Stop looking like a sad dog.” Really, he resembled Mocha so much it was difficult not to laugh more.

Mocha had been the male, but Clementine, the female Rottweiler in the pair his mother had gotten on his ceaseless begging, had never let him forget who was in charge. There were countless photos of the two together, wherein Clementine had either batted him aside so she was the center of the shot, had her paw in his mother’s outstretched palm, or had asserted her dominance in another way right before the camera took their pictures.

Mocha was mostly caught looking down with his big, sad, upturned eyes pleading for attention or acknowledgement of what he was suffering. Mom and he had laughed for hours and hours over those photos.

“Okay, seriously, stop that right now,” he chuckles, getting up with his plate. “Finish up, will you? Wanna show you something.”

Markus gives him a startled look, which confuses Connor, who offers a raised brow. “Yes?”

Markus looks what would be considered pale for him as he looks down at his plate. “Nothing.”

Connor fights the urge to make the same two-syllable sound that rises in pitch his mom does when she knows something shady is going on and snaps his fingers. Markus starts, and it would be funny if he weren’t so out of it. “Meet me in the bedroom, handsome,” he winks, and Markus swallows. He looks so somber Connor has to fight back a laugh and an unusual urge to coddle him.

Was he always so guilty when his ruts came before? Connor thinks not, but he’s a problem-solver.

Hopefully, the purchases would distract him. Markus’ rut was coming; there was no stopping it.

He’s barely folded the peculiar robe-like sweater across himself and wrapped the strings around the back to tie them when Markus enters, eyes darting around the room. He probably didn’t eat, which Connor frowns at.

“On the bed,” Connor instructs and picks out the black, plain, two-piece underwear with an exposed bottom. From the front, they look like slightly fancier boxers.

“What are you doing?” he can feel Markus’ bewilderment as he easily obeys and sits on his side of the bed.

“Get comfy,” Connor tells him when he turns around, and Markus’ mouth is slightly open, expression thoroughly confused. “Go on, sit back.” Connor moves to push Markus up until his back’s leaning against the wall and his legs are spread on the bed.

He looks like a deer caught in headlights, burning holes at Connor’s outfit.

“What’s the verdict?”

Markus makes an unintelligible sound and blinks, shaking his head. “W-What’s—where did you get—?” he gestures to Connor’s body.

“At a boutique,” Connor informs him cheekily. He lifts a flap of the sweater robe to show Markus how it could easily come off his body and twirls, leaning forward once his back is to Markus to show off the surprise in the back of his attire.

Markus groans deeply in his throat, and Connor turns back to see he’s gone rigid against the wall, head wanting to turtle into his neck.

“That bad, huh?” he laughs at the sight, echoing a variation of Markus’ favourite phrase from previous situations.

Markus blinks owlish eyes at him. From what way he moves his mouth, he could use some water. “Not at all.”

While his behaviors were humourous in the beginning, their uncharacteristic nature was now troubling to the point Connor couldn’t ignore them anymore.

“Okay, Markus,” Connor sits on the edge of the bed and runs his hands over Markus’ shins in a way he knows Markus finds comforting. He exudes as much omegeness as he can, but it’s difficult as he has little practice and has had no use of this aspect in the brief time he’s been able to do such a thing. “What’s going on? It’s not just your rut.”

Markus sags, jittery energy dissipating somewhat. He looks from Connor’s hands to his face and leans forward, taking Connor’s upper arms in hands to pull the other up to his chest. “Sorry.”

Connor hums, moving up on Markus’ lap to rest Markus’ head against his chest. “What’s wrong, Markus?” He has the back of Markus’ neck in a cool hand while the other gently scratches at his scalp.

Markus exhales, breathing in Connor’s scent, before relaxing. “Nothing. Not really. I was just. Overthinking something. But now Markus dot exe has stopped working.”

Connor leans back gives him an incredulous grin. “You’re so easy.”

Markus gives him a faux wounded grin back. “You said you’d never bring that up again.”

“I haven’t even worn the worst of it.”

Markus does a double take, eyes again swallowing Connor’s body. “There’s more?”

“More like less,” Connor pats Markus’ shoulder to release him so he can stand. He feels Markus’ eyes trailing on his legs as he gets off his lap and then on his ass when he goes to the other contents in the bag.

“Honestly, I didn’t know what you’d like.”

“Oh, Connor,” Markus starts, in that tone that gives away everything about how much Markus cares about him, “you don’t have to do this. I know you don’t—”

Connor keeps eye contact as he slips out of his current outfit and into a white, strung up tank top and lace underwear. “Yeah?”

“You—I don’t…have…any, any complaints,” Markus gets out with difficulty. “Really, this is unnecessary.”

It’s cute how he loses track of his thought.

Connor turns. “What about this one?”

Markus looks lightheaded. “Not that you don’t look great, just,” he shrugs, “doesn’t seem like you?”

Connor looks down at himself. “It’s a bit much.”

“I mean, really – no objections here, but you don’t have to go out of your comfort zone.”

Connor changes into the next outfit. A dark, especially short crop top with a textured material giving the illusion of a more complex design and crotchless stocking that also go up each leg to cross a thin band at his waist. He tugs on the smallest underwear he’s ever worn over the stockings. This time, it isn’t completely crotchless, but there’s definitely a large slit at the bottom. It’s only when he’s got the entire thing on that he feels it’s a cheap imitation of a slutty cowboy in assless stockings. 

“Wow,” Markus says, obviously not noticing or bothered by allusions to cowboys. “Um, wow.” Then he blinks out of his gawking. “Do you, do you like… I mean, is it comfortable for you?”

“Honestly, I’m testing it out now. Didn’t try everything in the store.”

Markus takes a deep breath then stands, moving to Connor, who meets him halfway. Markus places his arms around Connor’s waist. “You didn’t have to,” he says, looking like himself, like the Markus who’s present and thoughtful.

“Didn’t like anything?”

Markus tilts his head and smiles, doesn’t break eye contact. “I like you.”

Connor smiles and sways in Markus’ arms. “Sure do. Anything else?” he wheedles.

Markus purses his lips, considering, blushing slightly. “The first one really seemed more your style. I mean,” he looks away briefly, “certain things aside. This one is nice, too, but a little… I don’t know. I just. As long as it’s you.”

Since Connor’s usually delirious during their prolonged mating, Markus has been trying to articulate certain things about his bedroom preferences more – things he has difficulty expressing without silence and reluctance. Whether all alphas went through this, or if Markus is one of the few strange alphas who actually care was up for consensus.

“You can get rid of the second outfit if you feel like it.”

Markus’ brows go down in thought, and Connor continues. “I think it’s meant for situations like this,” he says suggestively.

Markus outright flushes, which makes Connor burn hot in the face and ears. He’s not used to dressing this way, but it helps when Markus seems as hesitant as he is.

“Only if you want to,” Markus pecks him on the forehead. “I’m okay with how we are normally,” he leans in on Connor’s neck and scents the area before broadly dragging his tongue across as much skin as can in a long, strong stroke.

Connor’s skin lights up and his toes curl. He grips Markus’ forearms and moans softly. There’s a smell of something he can’t quite place that blazes gently under the skin on his face, ears, neck, shoulders, and forearms.

The first rut they experienced together was a little frightening. Connor wasn’t as incoherent as he was when in heat and Markus was new to going through his rut with a mate. Now, Connor’s body reacts the way science claims it should. Thrumming against Markus’ touch and collapsing against his alpha like waves crashing on a shore.

In a sense, this makes it more frightening, but Connor tells himself to stop worrying since Markus has proven he cares about his wellbeing. It’s just staggering to constantly give so much up to another person.

“Markus,” he whispers, pushing forward to lean into Markus’ body and rub his face against Markus’ shoulder and neck. Markus firmly tugs his hair back to kiss him, tongue sweeping through his mouth and setting off sparks under Connor’s eyelids. His toes unintentionally curl again.

Markus pulls him back further to return to his neck, licking and scenting.

Connor feels like butter left out in the sun during summer. Markus holds him steady and reluctantly pulls them apart. “If you feel up for it, get changed. Or get undressed.”

Connor blinks a few times before realization hits him and he nods, ears feeling hot.

While the outfit might not fall under Connor’s usual style, it definitely doesn’t displease Markus’ sensibilities.

Markus tugs on his upper arm as he moves away, pulling him in for a quick kiss on his head before leaving to get some supplies. Water, towels, some food. The usual.

Unconsciously, Connor exhales deeply. He swaps clothes. The panties do feel too much. At least he knows, if Markus would like more of this.

Of course, Connor doesn’t have much to dress into, so he eventually helps Markus bring in extra water before they return to the bed.

“Sorry this happened near the weekend,” Markus grimaces.

Connor runs his hand down the side of Markus’ face. “Best time for it to happen.” He leans in for a kiss.

Markus catches his lips while caressing his shoulders before moving to the front of the top. He paws at Connor’s chest before tugging down to get at his nipples, then pulls away from kissing when he feels the fabric pull away.

“Oh,” he stares at Connor’s exposed chest, taking in how the straps aren’t broken but the top fits suggestively around Connor’s upper body.

Connor starts laughing.

“I thought I broke something already.”

He shakes his head, controlling his glee. “That was my reaction.”

Markus joins him in laughter and they resume kissing, Markus occasionally grabbing an arm, his head, or waist to bite around his shoulders, neck, and collarbone.

Markus’ mouth latches onto a soft nub before giving it enough attention with his teeth, lips, and tongue that Connor’s starting to feel something stir in his cock. When he shifts slightly, Markus puts a hand between his shoulder blades to push him closer to his mouth and works on his other nipple with his fingers.

Connor arches forward and sighs. Markus works on him while at times moving away from his chest to bite at his shoulders. Connor doesn’t fight the small sounds that escape his throat or the way his hips begin to wriggle as he keeps his upper body as still as Markus wants, the pressure on his back a request he’s trying to fulfill.

Absently, Connor feels how the underwear is cool and wet and slightly uncomfortable. He spreads his legs a bit to not feel the slick as much as Markus mouths his chest and settles his hands atop Connor’s hipbones.

Connor feels parts of himself start to close off in a space he usually doesn’t reach until much later in their mating, but it’s too serene to be troubling, as it always is, and he’s thankful Markus is the alpha who puts him there. Connor trusts Markus to restore him to himself.

When Markus gives his sternum a long lick upwards, it gives him better access to Connor’s trapezium area. He firmly bites at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, causing Connor to buck weakly in his arms.

Markus gives his shoulder a last kiss before pushing him back up and using his hands to touch his chest again. Dizzy, Connor grabs onto Markus’ arms and closes his eyes. It’s nice to start before Markus’ has no mind for patience. But Markus’ scent is reaching Connor in traces he doesn’t normally pick up, making Connor’s mouth water for something other than lips.

Not wanting to seem like he wasn’t enjoying the attention Markus is lavishing on him, Connor slowly edges off the bed.

Markus moves with him, understanding dawning when Connor bottoms out on the wooden floor, hands on Markus’ hips. “C’mere,” Connor grins.

Markus makes a surprised grunt when Connor unceremoniously frees his cock from his briefs. The smell he’s chasing is a memory but it hits Connor in a way that makes it hard to focus his vision. If he could smell the way an alpha could, he wonders how much worse it would be.

Connor licks his lips before gently lapping at where precum has leaked. He then hums when pressing his lips to certain parts of the shaft and smiles up at Markus before winking and suctioning the cockhead without warning. Connor hollows out his cheeks while tasting more pre-ejaculate and smelling Markus’ scent more clearly, for a moment. He’s trying to match the scent to a taste in the hopes of distinguishing it further.

He doesn’t know when he swallowed as much of Markus as he could, but Connor realizes he’s moaning around a mouthful of cock, drool dripping out of his mouth and down his chin in multiple rivulets.

He can barely feel Markus’ tight grip in his hair and on a shoulder, so on a mission to taste and take anything Markus will allow. When Connor opens his eyes to look up, all he can see is Markus’s expression of barely contained control and moans even louder around his cock.

Taking in even more of Markus’ length, he starts tearing up, grinding his hips back and forth on the floor, barely able to keep eye contact from an unexpected, overpowering need to satisfy them both.

Without thinking, he fans his fingers across Markus’ thighs and pushes forward, gagging and spilling more spit from his lips. Connor’s nose bumps repeatedly against the skin on Markus’ pelvis. His face is unbearably hot, vision an underwater mess, and throat rebelling, but Connor isn’t even close to where he wants to be.

Markus’ hands are on his throat and face, trying to push him back, but Connor’s moans, strangled sounds, and relentless sucking and bobbing are awkward to fight at the angle each of them is coming from.

For a moment, Connor gets Markus so deep in his throat he can barely move his tongue, only able to tighten his lips impotently as he lets out a prolonged moan and just inhales Markus’ smell. The knot is fighting to get into his mouth and Connor cannot stretch his lips any further to accommodate it. Pity.

There’s a small struggle as Markus drags him off, Connor choking and blinking out tears, the entirety of the grip his mouth has causing him to come off Markus with an overly wet pop.

It’s all a daze for Connor – getting up on his knees, distantly feelings tears in his eyes and down his face; the wetness in his mouth and down his chin; dumbly watching the line of saliva and precum from his mouth to Markus’ penis stretch the further he’s pulled away until it breaks and falls onto Markus’ stomach and down his own chin and chest.

“Holy crap, what was that?” Markus doesn’t give him time to answer, taking his unguarded mouth in a brutal kiss that Connor doesn’t have much of a mind to respond to. After a few seconds, a switch goes off again and Connor is sucking Markus’ tongue with a frenzy, hands coming up to grip the front and back of Markus’ neck.

Connor pulls away with another wet pop, eyes faraway and breathing ragged, before he plops back down onto the floor to latch onto Markus’ cock with his mouth again, with renewed vigour, jaw straining and head viciously bobbing to get his alpha to come in his mouth.

Markus’ hips buck a few times, harshly hitting the back of his throat even though Markus braces himself against Connor’s shoulders to prevent injury, but Connor only gags and surges downward, dutifully ignoring the way he can’t stop crying, to further tighten his mouth and hollow out his cheeks. When Markus comes, Connor feels it hit the back of his throat, further down from where the tip of Markus’ penis is already hitting, and he pulls back instinctively, feeling choked, but Markus’ hold on his shoulder keeps him in place.

Because an alpha orgasm is a somewhat lengthier affair than a beta’s or omega’s, Markus is still cumming when Connot manages to pull back some, feeling hot semen still spilling into his mouth, onto the back of his tongue, trailing forward the more he pulls off Markus. When just the head is between his lips, Connor can finally sample what he’d wanted.

Markus tastes _so good_ Connor lashes flutter in ecstasy.

He slurps and laps with broad, flat strokes at the cum that still shoots out, hands coming up to massage Markus’s knot and length, and sucks until there’s nothing left. Normally, he’d be sick after swallowing so much cum. Normally, this much cum doesn’t even stay inside him unless Markus’ knots him, and even then, much more spills out as they continue to mate. Now, however, Connor can’t get enough. Like a starving man, he cleans Markus as best he can before licking what he can off his fingers and palms.

“Oh, my, God,” Markus hooks his hands under Connor’s armpits to drag him up to the bed. If Connor were in his right mind, he’d laugh at how much Markus sounded like Carl.

His slick has left a puddle on the floor and everything is wet as he squirms to a comfortable position on top of Markus, locking eyes with Markus and sucking a few fingers as he’s brought upright.

Markus doesn’t mind the wetness Connor is leaving all over his lap – the floor, the bed – just pushes Connor down by the small of his back against his front. Connor shivers and licks his other palm until he’s certain his fingers are clean. “You taste so good,” he mumbles, “Want more.”

Markus’ face twists into something aggressive. He takes a handful of Connor’s hair and yanks it so Connor is arched sharply towards the floor, displayed before him. “What about what I want?”

Connor is breathless. “You didn’t want that?”

Markus stares at his messy face, flushed ears, and heaving chest, roaming to the wetness that spilled there and exhales to get some semblance of control back. In this position, he can devour all the delicate and sharp lines that composes Connor’s lithe body, muscles stretched taut – every part of him cleanly separated into fascinating angles.

His body trembles just so, making the various alluring planes of his person stand out. He doesn’t fight Markus’ grip, letting himself balance solely with his body, trusting the mean grip Markus has on his hair, bending him backwards into a bow shape. The submissiveness strikes something needy and screaming within Markus.

The top where the cloth had been pulled down to expose Connor’s chest is soaked. Markus would prefer if Connor were naked, but he can get him there.

“Want something more.” He leans forward to tongue a nipple, biting, before throwing Connor aside to land against the bed. Without preamble, he moves between Connor’s legs.

Connor hasn’t even adjusted before Markus shoves three fingers in him, incessantly digging for his prostrate.

The penetration is harsh and unexpected, but he finds himself bucking as much towards Markus’ fingers than he does away and sighs loudly after the initial yelp of discomfort. The intrusion fills his pelvis with a dull, incessant pain.

Markus’ actions are forceful. He uses his free hand to work on removing the top and twists his fingers towards Connor’s belly. He seems to be fighting his way in, knuckles hitting Connor’s rim in an attempt to go deeper than physically possible.

Connor scrambles for some surface to push against, but Markus has him bent upwards, the force of his movements offering no possibility of Connor doing anything but push against him.

His body automatically struggles, contracting around the fingers, but it also doesn’t work to actively fight Markus off, accepting what he’s given. He can feel the lace moving in and out of his entrance alongside Markus’ knuckles. Connor’s hands and head press up against the very wall Markus had meekly rested against earlier, and his spread legs and arched back can only hope for Markus to relent his assault on his prostrate.

The prodding of Markus’ fingers wavers as he pries the top off, loosening the ties on the side before throwing the top half aside, giving Connor some relief to his powerful motions.

And just as soon as Connor’s screaming from the onslaught, Markus fingers leave his puffy hole. Connor barely has time to wince when Markus pushes in, giving him another reason to.

Connor gasps as Markus’ knot presses against his clenching entrance with each thrust. His head is burrowing back against their pillows and Markus has lifted his hips off the bed.

“Keep your hips raised.”

The domination hits Connor in the gut and he clenches tightly. Markus hisses and roughly rams into him for a few thrusts in response, seemingly frustrated by the attempt at keeping him out.

Markus rarely commanded him without asking when they can help it. They’re too far gone now.

Connor flattens his feet and holds his hips up with Markus, keeping himself open. “Markus, Markus!”

Though Markus’ thrusts are no longer thoughtlessly cruel, they have an uncontrolled pitilessness to them that has Connor pressing his hands against the wall above him to keep from hitting it and to press further against Markus. Eventually, Connor’s arms bend and he can only hope Markus will not forget he’s there, and not just an omega hole for him to fuck.

One too many prostrate hits later, Connor decides he actually doesn’t care, letting go of the wall, making Markus falter then pick up an even more savage pace. Connor keeps his hips in the air but arches even more to show off his stomach.

He moves his hands up and down his torso, waiting until they make eye contact. Once they do, Connor flicks his gaze down, and Markus follows despite his enthusiasm to fuck him into the mattress. Connor rubs his lower abdomen, above his pelvis, where Markus is and will come inside him.

Markus watches his fingers hungrily, as they circle his lower stomach, and Connor flexes himself in a way that would normally hurt so they can see Markus’ cock bulging from within his stomach. Connor grunts and lightly touches his fingers to the bump, hole contracting violently around Markus in response to the visual.

Markus’ pace jerks and he’s pushes his knot against Connor’s unyielding entrance, spilling his release.

Connor feels filled up. Not ready to take anymore, especially a knot.

After a moment of more nudging with his knot against Connor’s stretched rim, Markus begins thrusting again, still hard. Connor feels the cum dribbling out of him.

He reaches down to see if he can find any with his fingers, and when he licks his digits, he isn’t disappointed.

Markus curses and feels around Connor’s rim with his cock still thrusting inside, then slips in two fingers, one following the other.

Connor shouts. He can’t get his head on right to reach down where even more cum is spilling out, despite his desperation for more. His entire body spasms.

“Markus, please,” Connor finally slumps, body relaxing, as the command relinquishes him and a post orgasm high sinks into his being, despite the ongoing stimulation. “Please, want to taste.”

“You already got more than a taste.”

“Want more. Markus. Markus!”

Markus grits his teeth and fights a strong urge to ignore Connor and keep fucking him. He pulls out, cum dribbling all over Connor’s body as he brings himself higher on the bed and Connor leans on his elbows to take Markus in his mouth.

Connor tightens his hole as best he can to keep what Markus left inside him.

Markus grabs his hair again and groans as if he’s pain. “C’mon, Connor, no fair. Really need you. Inside you.” It’s not like him to whine. Connor likes it.

Connor sucks and laps at him, humming as if he’s eating the best food in the world. He milks Markus until this orgasm has ended and has to be pulled away when Markus knows there’s nothing left for the moment. He stares hard into Connor’s face, “You’re going to get sick.”

Even as he says it, Connor can feel the part of Markus that wants Connor to get sick. Hell, he wants to get sick on Markus. It does something odd to his body and he feels a new wave of slick leave him, oozing out with the semen Markus was able to dispense within in as his hole pulses wildly.

Connor pulls him down, breathless, and licks the sweat falling from his head down to his cheek. He can feel Markus’ stubble grate against his tongue and feels electricity in his limbs, “You won’t hurt me.” They’re locked in an odd angle, but Markus doesn’t move away.

Markus grabs back and bites at the side of his neck, getting a surprising amount of flesh between his teeth despite the angle. Connor’s entire body trembles and he feels like a fresh puddle during a crisp morning.

“Think you can take some commands?”

Connor nods before Markus is even done speaking. “Yeah, yes, yes.”

Markus leans back and eyes him warily. He’s temporarily more himself now and gently places his fingers against Connor’s face while his thumb strokes over Connor’s lower lip, opening his mouth and rubbing a bit of it inside, barely grazing Connor’s darting tongue. “Sorry about earlier.”

Connor leans his head up to suck in Markus’ finger. Silly, Markus, it wasn’t even that strong a domination. When he pops his lips off the digit, he grins. “Go on, then, show me what you got.”

Markus groans and adjusts to lie down and wrap his arms around Connor’s neck and cradle his head in his arms. “Don’t. Just don’t.”

Connor quickly wraps his legs around Markus, making sure to rub Markus erection against his wet entrance. “Want to feel how you want me.”

Markus stiffens. Connor smells his scent clearly.

“Don’t provoke me.”

Connor nuzzles under Markus’ jawline, unknowingly exuding his omeganess in another, less placating way, licking Markus in places under his jaw before gently taking some of his earlobe between his teeth.

“Aren’t I yours, anyway?” he whispers in the shell of his alpha’s ear.

▼

Occasionally, Connor’s consciousness surfaces. He has no desire to leave the blanketed feeling he’s receded to, deeply secure in Markus’ very being. Only when Markus gently commands him to do something else does he come to without waiting to resurface naturally.

What Connor feels is something much stronger than desire – so compelling it reaches deep within him, to a place he wasn’t familiar with. He suffocates there without Markus. Being with Markus overtakes his senses, as well. He’s caught. He wants to stay caged. Markus’ canary, like the ones in his childhood home.

He thinks Markus says, “Don’t ever leave me,” somewhere in his haze. Connor struggles to hold him, trying to respond, “Never.” He can’t tell if he’s imagining things. It sounds more like his thoughts, but it’s said in Markus’ voice. When Markus comes in him it’s especially hot and considerable.

One time, Connor awakes alone on the bed. He feels something around his ankle and notices it’s wet and little cold. He looks down and doesn’t even know what state the panty is in, merely interested in limply shaking it off. It takes a few jostles before it lands on the floor. He doesn’t have much time to adjust in the bed before Markus returns with water in his hands.

Markus sets a glass by the bedside table and lifts Connor up with one arm while putting the glass to Connor’s lips. “Hey, come back to me. You need water. C’mon, drink,” the command barely brushes his conscious, but it’s enough to get Connor to wrap his lips around the glass rim and swallow. Markus is patient and gentle, but Connor sips too little. It’s from his habit of being busy and not drinking enough.

Markus joins the glass with the other on the table and adjusts Connor again.

“Open your mouth,” he tries another tactic, taking a swig of water and giving it to Connor via his mouth.

Connor is able to lap up more water and Markus must give him the entire glass but he still feels parched. This is strangely familiar but Connor can’t place why or when. He thinks he sucks on Markus’ tongue at one point and has a hard time letting go.

On his side, with his legs bent and together, Connor tries not to focus on the way his legs and hips hurt, with Markus thrusting into him, he feels Markus maneuver something around his neck. His hand automatically shoots up to touch it, even though he isn’t completely competent at the moment. A collar? It doesn’t feel tight enough.

He tugs at whatever it is and Markus gently pries his hand away, kissing the back of his ring finger before bringing both their hands low on Connor’s stomach, as if to have them feel him moving inside Connor.

Connor blinks into weary consciousness. It takes long moments to gather his bearings and sort through the faraway fog. His eyes ache and can’t focus; his hips and lower back now signaling a dull pain to his brain.

Light tears form in his eyes the more he tries to focus them, and he blinks them away to figure out what’s going on. He’s face down, mostly off a pillow, and Markus is thrusting into him from behind, the cause of the ache in his gut. His hips are canted at an angle.

Connor makes a small sound. He can feel Markus’ front on his back as he nips at Connor’s shoulder blades. Some of the discomfort fades but Connor doesn’t have the strength to do much but stay in place.

While facing the ceiling, Connor searches for Markus by reaching behind him. A part of him feels Markus inside of him, but he doesn’t really know what’s happening. When he locates Markus’ head, Connor presses his fingers and palms to the heated, sweaty skin and tries to ground himself.

“Markus, Markus.”

“I’m here.”

“Feels weird.”

Markus’ movements halt and Connor feels a hand he didn’t notice on his hips move up to his chest and neck, to single-handedly embrace him.

“Sorry, hold on.”

“No,” Connor slowly says, mind lagging, “feels different…from before.”

His body is already at its limit despite Markus not being done, but a lot of their mating felt completely different. Where there was more pain and uncertainty, a low thrumming of constant arousal now permeated everything.

His body feels foreign. Like it’s not his own.

Markus shifts Connor off his chest so Connor can see him, determined to keep his hand on Markus, switching positions to keep his hand on Markus’ neck.

“Connor,” Markus whispers, “come back to me.”

Connor doesn’t know where else he’s been, but he loves hearing that line from Markus.

Markus’ face goes in and out of focus as Connor stares blankly. Vaguely, he realizes Markus and he are stuck together, and while Markus had tried to make them as comfortable as possible, it was difficult since he wanted to look fully at Connor. Connor shifts his hip and adjusts his leg so it isn’t stretched out around Markus’ side.

“You feel different, too.”

Markus frowns, considering. “I feel it, too. I think…I was more terrified before. You could probably sense it.”

Something deep in his biology feels a twang of regret at those words, “Scared of what?”

Markus doesn’t answer for a long time. “Maybe myself.”

Connor is about to question more when Markus kisses him. “You with me now?”

Connor nods, mouth parted.

Markus smiles, his fingers trail around Connor’s stomach then moves up his sternum to between Connor’s collar bones. That’s when Connor feels it again, the thing around his neck.

“What’s that?” Connor covers Markus’ hand with his own, feeling something tickle his neck.

“The necklace I thought you found,” Markus chuckles. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Feeling around, Markus puts the pendant between Connor’s fingers. The string is metallic but feels only slightly heavier than a spider’s web. The pendant is wider than his fingers, but light and with a complex design that almost bites into his fingertips.

“What is it?”

Markus scrunches his lips, face heating, a darker blush spreading. “It’s a slight redesign of the tattoo I drew on you when were kids.”

It’s Connor’s turn to frown in thought. Markus had drawn on his skin plenty when they were younger. Even now, Connor offers a wrist, leg, or arm when he feels like it.

“Think way back,” Markus mumbles, cheeks darkening still.

Connor does and can hazard a guess, but his mind is so addled the memory is faint. “I’ll see it when we clean up.”

Markus grins. “I wanted it to put it on you after – see you watch me do it in front of the mirror – but I couldn’t help myself.”

Connor hums, “Kinky.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Markus adjusts their positions again, and Connor tries to move with him so they don’t pull painfully at each other.

Markus spoons him from behind and nuzzles at Connor’s neck. “I always wanted you, you know.”

“Mm, now you have me.” Connor absently traces the muscles in Markus’ forearms.

“You have me, too,” Markus says quietly. “I was thinking. Just thinking. What if we made it more official?”

Connor can’t help the way he clenches around Markus or stiffens in his hold. He’s not ready for kids.

Markus hesitates before continuing. “I mean, I was thinking, what about Connor Manfred-Stern, or Markus Stern-Manfred. But, then, I remembered your parents and…” he shifts and looks over Connor’s shoulder to see what expression he can, “I don’t know. What do you think of Connor and Markus Stern?”

Now it’s Connor.exe that stops working. His throat is dry and he feels like he would dry up down there, too, but his body betrays his feelings and a slight release of slick forms.

Hand on the pendant, Connor pointedly avoids eye contact, staring at the open door to their bedroom. “My dad was strange.”

He certainly wasn’t a normal alpha. Alphas didn’t take their mate’s names.

He’d been ridiculed for his choice, even if he was a more powerful than the average alpha. Connor noticed the shift in other’s opinions of his father. He always knew something had changed, but didn’t figure out what until later. He didn’t have to ask what his mother thought – she’d been very vocal about it.

Markus brings Connor flusher against his chest. “I thought he was cool.” A pause, “I also think Stern sounds way better than Connor Manfred,” before he nips and licks at Connor’s shoulder.

Connor turns to side eye Markus. “You really thought about this.”

“I did,” Markus smiles down at him. “I get why he did it.” Markus continues to lick at the skin between his shoulder and neck. “And, I’m crazy about you, if you haven’t forgotten. You’re everything to me.”

Connor knew his parents were happy – he’d always been, but this is too much. Markus would probably follow in Carl’s footsteps, barring the chance he wouldn’t become widely renowned, and the press on anything he’d do would probably mention taking on an omega’s surname. 

Connor doesn’t hold any of the achievements or accolades his mother does.

“Markus Stern, what do you think?” He sounds way too content.

Connor again lifts a hand to reach back for Markus, turning his head to kiss him on the lips, full, light, damp. Markus feels strangely soft. So does he.

Connor’s just a defective omega. There’s a lot to consider.

Markus looks so happy Connor doesn’t have the heart to tell him it’s a bad idea. Instead, he puts on a crooked smile, “If you did that, people might confuse you for her biological son. You could get away with it.”

Markus laughs and kisses him at a sideways angle, tongue asking for permission to enter Connor’s mouth.

He acquiesces to the prodding while Markus twist him so his back is on the bed and they can face each other despite Connor being knotted. Markus wraps himself around Connor, whose knees rest over Markus’ legs, cradled by his alpha.

There’s lots of innocent touching, to bring them closer to each other again and again, putting their lips together and feeling each other’s sensitive skin.

Connor brings both hands to clasp his fingers around the back of Markus’ head. “I like ordinary. Being us. We don’t have to be them, or anyone else.” Markus’s mouth is so close to his, when Connor speaks, his lips brush against the other man’s. The sensation sends an electric pulse through Connor’s body and he feels himself producing slick again, wetness escaping despite the knot.

Connor ends up trying to snuggle into Markus’ arms. It’s a thing he’s never done consciously, but he feels so alone and vulnerable.

Pleasantly surprised, Markus chuckles due to the awkward angle, but his arms stay wrapped around Connor, legs snaked around to one side around Markus’ thighs to accommodate their position.

Sunday’s already at midday; Markus is warm and solid. Connor buries his face into Markus’ shoulder, gripping his arm.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> there might be questions like: wait, how does markus not smell connor’s anxiety? well, maybe connor’s giving off another stronger smell & markus' own scent is a bit overpowering atm. plus, connor's situation is complicated (in another fic), so his smell only really shines during his heat.


End file.
